


On the Shores of...

by macbyrne



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Drowning, First Kiss, M/M, Mutual Pining, Near Death Experiences, Season/Series 01
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-10-25
Updated: 2009-10-25
Packaged: 2018-02-21 17:27:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 994
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2476358
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/macbyrne/pseuds/macbyrne
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Merlin had to drag Arthur out of that lake (during that whole sidhe ordeal) he maybe did some CPR just to make sure Arthur was breathing. Arthur can't stop DREAMING ABOUT IT.</p>
            </blockquote>





	On the Shores of...

**Author's Note:**

  * For [queenklu](https://archiveofourown.org/users/queenklu/gifts).



> queenklu has the scary power to make me do things. Things I normally wouldn't do. She did a reverse drabble meme in her journal, here, and when I jumped on the bandwagon *shakes head at sheep-y self*, this is what she asked for:

Arthur lies still and tries to take stock of the situation. He’s cold, and wet, and his armor is poking him in horrible places, and he knows it’s going to rust if he can’t browbeat Merlin into cleaning it properly for once. He can hear someone breathing next to him, deep rasping gasps that sound almost like sobs. But none of it matters. All he can focus on is the sweet taste on his tongue; it’s clean, and fresh, and it tastes better than anything he’s ever had before, and he licks his lips in an effort to get more of it. It’s so good and he opens his eyes to find the source.  
  
“Arthur!” Merlin yells, and Arthur winces. His head hurts, and he can barely keep his eyes open, but he manages to turn his head enough to glare at his manservant. Merlin is soaking wet too. His hair is dripping into his face, and his stupid neckerchief is askew, and his eyes are huge, all blue and glistening, and he’s so damn pale Arthur can practically see through him. Arthur wants to roll his eyes. Only Merlin would manage to look so pathetic and ridiculous while kneeling beside his future king, who is slowly rusting away on the shores of a...lake? When did they go to a lake?  
  
“Arthur, are you all right?” At the ridiculous question, Arthur _does_ roll his eyes, and promptly passes out.  
  
***  
  
Arthur lies awake, staring up at the canopy of his bed. Apparently he tried to elope with Sophia, and Merlin, _Merlin_ , had to knock him unconscious with a piece of wood and drag him back to court. And then for a reward, Merlin spent the afternoon in the stocks again.   
  
Arthur’s been feeling out of sorts ever since he woke up to Merlin and Gaius sitting watch. Something is missing, something _besides_ the thought process that led to his decision to defy his father and his king and elope with some young woman he didn’t even _know_ , let alone love, but he has no idea what. He rolls over and _wills_ himself to sleep, telling himself that the elusive feeling will be gone in the morning.  
  
***  
  
 _“Arthur! Arthur, breathe! Breathe, damn it!”  
  
He can hear the voice as if from miles away, beseeching and desperate. He feels warmth on his cool skin, on his lips, and then a sweet taste, like sunshine, like spring. Like joy. It flows through his entire body, warm and peaceful. Arthur accepts it gladly, and feels life flood his body, feels his lungs expand and his heart beat. He feels tears fill his eyes, because he knows this is a dream, and he knows that all at once that he was dead, dead and almost gone, but something pulled him back. And he knows if he doesn’t open his eyes right now, he’ll never figure out what that wonderful taste is, and it’ll be gone forever._  
  
***  
  
Merlin enters Arthur’s rooms with a small tray of bread and mead, trying to move quietly for once, so he won’t wake the prince if he’s managed to fall asleep. It’s all for nothing, because no sooner does he ease the door shut then the tray is yanked away to clatter to the floor, and hands settle on his shoulders. He stills instantly, recognizing the touch.  
  
“My lord?”  
  
“ _Mer_ -lin.” And there is the odd inflection Merlin’s been missing all day, all week if the truth be known. The way Arthur says his name, mocking and affectionate all at once. “I wonder, _Mer_ -lin, if you might be so kind as to explain to me why I suddenly recall drowning yesterday?”  
  
Merlin freezes. Arthur chuckles softly and manhandles Merlin around until they’re facing each other. Merlin is pinned against the door by Arthur’s hands on his shoulders, but he knows he couldn’t move even if Arthur stepped away. He’s frozen to the spot by the look in Arthur’s eyes.  
  
Arthur tilts his head, considering. He lifts one hand and presses it to Merlin’s jaw, tilting his head this way and that, as though he’s looking for something. His fingers are warm, and Merlin wants to press into the touch, but he doesn’t, doesn’t move, doesn’t react, until Arthur’s thumb presses against his bottom lip. Then he gasps.  
  
Arthur’s thumb rubs back and forth, back and forth. His eyes never leave Merlin’s mouth as he whispers, “I kept thinking something was missing. I was forgetting something, but I couldn’t figure out what. I just knew it was really, really important. It’s all I could think about. I even dreamed about it.”  
  
“S-sire—“  
  
“And when I woke I realized what it was. I remembered.”  
  
Merlin swallows hard. “Remembered what?”  
  
Arthur doesn’t answer, just leans forward and presses his lips to Merlin’s. His lips are soft and warm, and they cause tingles to race over every inch of Merlin’s skin. Then Arthur pulls back.  
  
“No. Still not right.”  
  
“Wh-what? No, it’s completely right!”  
  
Arthur grins. “No, you idiot. There’s still something missing.”  
  
Merlin stares into the eyes of the man who is his king, regardless of who sits on the throne. “What?”  
  
“Kiss me back.”

It’s all Arthur can do to keep from grinning at the look on Merlin’s face. It’s half petrified and half shocked, and Arthur can’t help but lean in and kiss Merlin’s parted lips again quickly.  
  
“C’mon, _Mer_ -lin. Kiss me. Surely you’ve kissed before? It’s not that difficult, but I can walk you through it if you—“  
  
Arthur’s words are cut off when Merlin scowls and presses his lips against Arthur’s. His mouth is slightly open, and Arthur can’t help but flick his tongue against Merlin’s bottom lip, coaxing him to open wider. Merlin, for _once_ , actually does as Arthur asks, and opens his mouth.  
  
And finally, Arthur finds what he’s been missing since he awoke in his own bedchamber with a splitting headache and a suspicion he’d lost something.

 

_Fin_


End file.
